


Even Old Ships Make A Scene When They Sink

by thelaziesthufflepuff



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen, Genderswap, but sanada suffers more, jackal suffers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-15
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelaziesthufflepuff/pseuds/thelaziesthufflepuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Tenipuri/Gintama AU that no one needs but I wrote anyway</p><p>aka meet Yorozuya Gen-chan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Old Ships Make A Scene When They Sink

**Author's Note:**

> My thesis is over, I'm into Gintama, and all of this combined to create this crack fic. Enjoy.

Sanada comes back from the market to a broken house. No, there was not a sad story of parental neglect or abuse (not in this particular story anyway) - the words were broken house, not broken home. It also did not imply that his house was of poor quality, made with shoddy materials or what not. That house has stood for years since he first bought it from Ryuuzaki-sensei, who was one of the most tenacious landladies he has ever met, especially with regards to repairing tiny cracks in the ceiling. No, his house was broken- splintered apart due to a _gigantic space shuttle_ crashing into it, glinting silver in the morning sun.

There goes his quiet Saturday afternoon. 

“Sanada! Thank god you’re alright!” Sanada turns to find Oishi hurrying towards him. Sanada is alright; his wallet, already slim with feeding two additional mouths, is decidedly not. He resists the urge to kick the offending debris.

“When did this happen?” He casts a critical eye over the collapsed roof, the ruined floorboards and the leaky pipes of her office and home, and very pointedly does not reach for his bokuto to commit murder at nine in the morning.

Even if it was very tempting. 

“Half an hour ago.” Oishi gives a nervous smile. “Sanada, please don’t cut people in front of the bar. It’s bad for business.”

“Of course.” He nods. Besides, that’s what back alleys are for. But more importantly, where _is_ the pilot of the accursed shuttle, how dare they run without compensations or apologies, he’s going to camp out here all day if he has to, in order to give the pilot a tongue-lashing they will never forget.

He storms through the wreckage, irritably stomping on some loose pieces of wood, casting a baleful eye at shuttle’s nose protruding through the first floor ceiling. Ryuuzaki-san is going to _skin_ the pilot alive for damaging her precious bar, and Sanada will be next in line, waiting to skin the offending pilot if they were still alive after Ryuuzaki-san was done with them. The old Queen of Kabuki-chou may be retired, but her arms and legs are still filled with wiry strength and she could lift a man up with her fingers through his nostrils.

She that to him once. It was not pretty.

He double-takes at the logo on the nose. The picture of a man, standing proud in a business suit with his eyes twinkling at stars, fingers emphasizing the regal cut of his chin and _that bloody birthmark,_ was someone he had not seen in person for years.

Atobe Keigo is going to pay for repairs. Sanada will make sure of that.

The space shuttle door opens. Steam hisses and smoke escapes, and a figure walks imperiously out like he has all the time in the world, instead of immediately grovelling for forgiveness.

 _Ridiculous drama queen_ , Sanada sighs to himself. Guess some things have not changed since the war.

“ _You_.” Sanada bites out. The smoke clears and Atobe steps out, looking well-dressed and ridiculously pleased, not a hair out of place.

“Yes, this is Atobe Keigo. Ore-sama is pleased that you still remembered me.”

“You wrecked my house! And my office!”

Atobe turns around. “This is your house? And your office? You’re living _here?_ ” His face scrunches together and Atobe shakes his head sadly. Sanada knows Atobe is one step away from patting is shoulder consolingly.

“I was! Until your stupid giant space shuttle crashed into it!” Sanada yells, angrily waving at the offending piece of space technology that had no business being on Earth but more specifically, no business being in _his house._ How can he meet clients like this? Thank goodness Akaya and Jackal aren’t here yet.

“You are fixing this.” He hisses through his teeth.

“Of course.” Atobe shrugs casually. “Send me the bill for the repairs. The Kaientai has more than enough funds to rebuild your… _house_.”

He really hopes Ryuuzaki-san throws Atobe into space by his own nostrils.

-

After that disastrous meeting with an old friend that apparently was too busy circling around Edo to look for Tezuka to realise that his shuttle was running out of fuel and thus unceremoniously crashing into his house, Sanada figures that he must have used up his yearly allowance of bad luck.

Apparently not.

“Sanada-san look at this!” Akaya runs towards him, but she is not alone, a fluffy yellow dog the size of his bathroom door is chasing her, tail wagging in delight. “Can we keep him?”

His headache is back.

“No we can’t- put him back! Where did you even find him?”

“In a box! He was all alone.” Akaya pets the dog with her umbrella, dodging its attempts to chew on her face. “The box had ‘Odd Jobs’ written for it, so it must be for us!”

It is now that Jackal arrives. Good, he needs as many people to convince Akaya that keeping a dog the size of an elephant is a terrible idea. Jackal has a bleeding forehead and teeth marks in around his head, obvious without the cover of hair.  

“We can’t keep it- look at how it bit me!” Jackal wipes the blood off with his sleeve. “Man I really wish I had hair right now.”

“We’re not keeping it. Akaya put it back.” Sanada puts his sternest face on. There is no way his wallet can support another life form, unless that life form happened to sustain itself on air and sunlight and stupidity, all of which can be found in great abundance in the Kabuki district. 

“But he has nowhere else to go!”

“That doesn’t mean he can stay with us.” _Thank you Jackal, for being the voice of reason,_ Sanada thinks.  

“But no one else will keep him!” Akaya’s eyes start to widen. “We can’t leave him.” She rubs her face on its fur. The dog nibbles on her umbrella.

“Well of course no one else will keep him- if he keeps biting people no one will want to keep him!” Jackal explains exasperatedly, pointing to the bite marks lining his forehead like a cheap headband, crusted with blood.

“He doesn’t try to bite me. It’s just you- I think Rikkai doesn’t like bald heads. They’re too shiny for him.”

“YOU’VE ALREADY NAMED IT?” Jackal yells, “And my head is not SHINY--“

Nearly every resident who is still indoors pops their head out of their window to stare at the three of them standing in the streets while a giant yellow dog nonchalantly pees onto some very expensive looking rosebushes. He should really drag the dog away, before the roses wilt from the pungent smell and the owners come asking for monetary compensation.  

Sanada pulls at the leash. The dog refuses to budge. Akaya and Jackal are debating the merits of having shiny bald heads. He is on his own. He pulls again.

The dog responds by biting his head. He feels blood trickling down his face.

Today is not a good day.

 -

“What happened to your face?”

“Akaya.” Sanada replies sullenly over green tea. Tezuka’s face clears, and then it clouds over again.

“She bit you? I thought she was growing out of her Yato instincts.”

“She didn’t bite me- the dog bit me!” Sanada points to the teeth marks.

Tezuka raises a polite eyebrow, indicating her disbelief at Sanada’s new found love for abandoned animals. “Our food is here.”

The waiter takes one look at Sanada’s scowl and his cheap bloody headband made with love and teeth, and Tezuka’s sheathed sword, an illegal item since the Sword Prohibition Act was in place, and Tezuka’s _unique_ companion, and promptly dumps their dishes in front of them, muttering a quick _enjoy your meal_ before fleeing behind the counter.

Hopefully the police don’t come after Tezuka. Or hopefully they’ll wait till after dinner. He’s starving.

“Let’s eat,” Tezuka says quietly.

“We have a dog now,” he continues elaborating. His knife cuts cleanly into the boiled potatoes. He is now the proud owner of a murderous dog the size of a car with teeth as sharp as the knives. Joy.  

“That’s… good.” Tezuka takes a sip of her tea. “Pets teach children responsibility. Akaya could grow from this.”

“If all of us don’t die from blood loss by then.” Sanada replies grimly, cutting his chicken cutlet. He would have preferred beef, but his wallet ruled over his stomach. Tezuka gives a non-committal hum as she drenches her unagi with green tea, and makes no mention of the weird creature sitting next to her.

Sanada stares at the creature. The creature stares back unblinkingly.

Sanada scowls. “Who- what is this?” He points to the figure beside Tezuka, an Amanto that looks like the result of a torrid love affair between a duck and a child’s Western ghost costume, who was then doused with radiation and left outside to dry.

It even has spiky black hair.   

Large unblinking eyes continue to stare at him behind thick black-rimmed glasses, while holding a knife bloodied with ketchup.

“This is Inui.” Which clears up nothing, in Sanada’s humble opinion.

“Atobe sent him to me.” Tezuka continues. “He thought I’d be lonely.”

“He thought you’d be lonely,” Sanada repeats flatly, “so he sent you an Amanto from who knows where to be your pet.”  

“Inui comes from… somewhere far away.” Sanada doesn’t even bother responding to that statement.  

Tezuka lightly dabs at her lips with a napkin and arranges her cutlery. Even years at war and years of domestic terrorism couldn’t destroy Tezuka’s proper table manners.   “His people are highly intelligent. Even though he is an Amanto, he has chosen to align himself with the Joui. He believes that what we are doing is just.” Tezuka eyes Sanada meaningfully. “There is always a place for you too.”

“No thanks.” Sanada doesn’t need to hear the rest of the statement before resolutely rejecting it. That part of his life is now over.

“We offer comprehensive healthcare coverage to all our members.”

“I’m not joining your terrorist organisation for free dental.”

“We are an organization fighting for equal rights." Tezuka replies primly. 

"You blew up the Embassy and tried to pin it on me." Sanada replies, less primly.

"You will also get a free towel if you sign up.” Tezuka continues, not dissuaded in the least. “It can be used to wipe all sorts of stains, including the stains of society.”

A long silence surrounds the table. Sanada sees Tezuka’s ears reddening under the fluorescent lights.

 _There was a 99% chance that that joke would have fallen flat._ Inui holds up his words on a signboard. Apparently Atobe got Tezuka a pet that cannot make small talk. Huh, he must have wised up over the years. Tezuka may actually willingly keep this gift of his, instead of carefully stowing them in cardboard boxes, hidden away in dark storerooms, only to be taken out when she was feeling particularly sentimental.    

Tezuka picks up her spoon and quickly shoves a large mouthful of rice into her mouth. Sanada pretends that Tezuka is not horribly embarrassed, pointedly not mentioning the stray grain of rice next to her mouth. 

They finished their meals in blessed silence, until they are interrupted _yet again,_ by the police.

It is the cherry on the top of a terrible day.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comment or kudos if you liked!


End file.
